---

You thought it was over,

it's not over

I came back, I brought my axe

In the shadows, alone in the

dark

young victims I stalk

You thought it was over, it's not over

I came back

From the grave

To mutilate

Axed in the back

Pick through the neck

Dead like the rest

Molested and left

Limbs split in half

I rupture their flesh

Puncture wounds

To the head

Bone fragments clot to the

hatchet

Knee-deep in the blood of the

Dead

Cranial separation

Sex with her severed head

Rotten walking dead

Hunting living victims